


the sea of sin

by cloudydragon



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M, momota kaito voice: fuck that guy but also fuck that guy do you get me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9654575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudydragon/pseuds/cloudydragon
Summary: Supposing a scenario where Momota gave in.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [our love is god](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9572648) by [idaate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idaate/pseuds/idaate). 



Momota is dragging him across the floor when Ouma says, out of nowhere, “I want to ask you for a favor.” and Momota says, “What?” 

“I’ll tell you later.” 

 

The thing that gets Momota most, even now, is that he still doesn’t understand Ouma Kokichi. He knows what Ouma told him, which isn’t much. With all his plans stripped away, Ouma’s true emotions are as clear as they were at the start, which is to say _not at all_. Even as he clambers down from the control panel and lies down on his ruined coat, his expression is emotionless and blank. 

Ouma looks up at him with mutable dark eyes as Momota crumples up his shirt into the smallest ball he can manage, and when he finally opens his mouth Momota’s more than ready for whatever shit he’s going to say next, he nearly sighs in relief — 

“A kiss for the road, Momota-chan?” he says, and for a moment too long Momota stares at him, wondering if he’s serious, before realizing it’s just another tactic to throw him off-guard, one last bit of amusement at his expense. He only knows one thing for sure about Ouma Kokichi, and it’s that he likes fucking with people. So of course he decides, quite impulsively, _fuck his schemes_ , taking Ouma’s face with both hands and leaning in. 

Ouma makes a startled noise, almost a squeak. His eyes are very wide. _Didn’t think I’d actually do it, did you_ , Momota thinks, satisfied despite himself as he swipes a finger over Ouma’s jawline. Ouma’s skin is as soft as a girl’s and his blood-spiked bangs prick Momota’s palms as he carefully angles his mouth against his. 

At first Momota means to kiss him gently, chivalrously, like the heroes kissed the heroines in the romantic movies he never paid much attention to back at home, but Ouma presses into him with increasing intensity, and suddenly it’s difficult to let go. 

If this is the finale, he can’t name a film that fits it. They’re not lovers, they aren’t even close: neither of them are triumphant over the other. Momota doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s exhausted from his sickness and from being poisoned, and Ouma’s apparently been running on fumes for even longer than that. None of this stops him from kissing Momota back with a kind of desperate energy, arching himself up into Momota with his fists clenched at his sides as if to stop himself from moving. 

For a good ten seconds Momota almost forgets the cold press of metal against his back, that he’s only here because Ouma coordinated this, that there's a machine press above them and a metal slab beneath holding them together here in this moment. When Ouma draws back, Momota realizes he’d forgotten, for an instant, that he’d agreed to kill him. 

He opens his mouth to say something, anything. Nothing comes out. His face is still inches from Ouma’s. 

Ouma’s voice is raspy. It must hurt to speak. “Just do it, Momota-chan.” 

Momota shuffles back on his elbows. Takes a deep breath. “Yeah, okay.” 

(Part of Momota is just waiting for Ouma to say something: _stop the press, I can fix this, there’s another way out_. Momota Kaito doesn’t believe in unhappy endings, and that doesn’t stop even as the 

press 

comes 

down.)

 


End file.
